Sci-Fi story (Not finished

I'm 13, and this was a project in our English class.

2022, New York

The mirror above the mantle piece cast a distorted reflection. The man pondered on his failure. What had happened, why did it happen? He was worried. Worried about the consequences that were to occur. He put on a brown trench coat and walked down the long, deserted street, shivering with fear. A few cars passed, but they took no notice of him. He was worried. After a short while, he reached a corner. He stood, leaning against the wall. Then, the moment he was dreading. A sleek, black sedan pulled up alongside the corner. The window closest to the man opened. A puff of smoke escaped, all most too quickly, like it was running. Running from the man inside. A hand extended out of the window. The hand was too pale, too rough, too gashed. It was not human.
 “Get in”, a harsh croaky voice from inside the car called. The man climbed into the car.
 Dr Pesti Lence S-ss-sir, I didn’t wr-wrong you,” The man said, shivering in fear.
“Yes Diablo, you did. You did not fulfil the contract. You did not kill Hunter’s family.” The man nodded, and looked out of the window.
In the reflection, a knife glimmered.
“I will not kill you Diablo. You have been a vital asset.”
“Thank-”, before Diablo had finished, he was knocked unconscious by the doctor’s gashed fist.
The car drove on towards the docks.
“Dump his body here.”
The men in the front climbed out and carried Diablo’s limp body towards the edge of the shore…

The car drove on through the warm and muggy night.
“Sir, what shall we do now?”
“Locate his family.” “And kill them.”
The car pulled up along side a house, hidden away in the suburbs. The men in the front got out, and walked around to the back of the car. One retrieved a double barrelled shotgun, while the other retrieved a Heckler and Koch Sub machine gun. They walked up to the door, silently. It was as if Death had come to extract revenge. The men kicked the door down. A flurry of bullets ensued and the men came back out with 3 bagged bodies.
“Sir, his wife and two sons.”
“Good. Put them in the trunk.”
The car drove back to the docks. The bodies were dumped besides Diablo’s living breathing one…

Diablo woke in the morning to find his two dead sons lying next to him. He jumped back, disgusted because of the deformed figures he saw before him. His wife’s body was being pecked upon by some crows. He wailed, and got up. He wiped himself down, only to find a bruise on his left thigh. The pain was excruciating. Diablo walked over towards the muddy bank. He found a branch, long and sturdy. He was going to fight his way out of New York.

Diablo walked through the city, gazing up from time to time. People were walking. Pesti Lence hadn’t realised he’d survived. He kept his head down and avoided any contact with others. He knew when he got to the outskirts; the guards were going to kill him. He had to escape, but how? A truck parked in an alley on his left hand side. That was it. One of the Dr’s. He ran towards the truck, waving his arms about carelessly. The trucker looked at him, and climbed out of the vehicle.
“What’d you need?” Asked the trucker. He was a fat, greasy and smelly man.
“A ride out of the city,” Diablo replied, out of breath.
“How much?”
Diablo took out a wad of fresh $50 notes.
“Jump into the back.” The trucker said, his eyes greedily fixed on the wad.
The trucker drove towards the outskirts. Diablo sat in the back, his eyes darting around the trailer. There were 2 kids here. 2 innocent kids, tied up and shackled. Anger flared in Diablo. The trucker was a fat, useless, self-centred monster, with no intent for life, only money.
After a while, the truck stopped. The trucker got out and opened the doors. He was holding a shotgun to Diablo’s head.
“Those kids are mine.” He signalled to the ground.
Diablo looked at him, and disarmed him instantly. He forced the trucker to the ground, and shot him. The bullet ripped straight through. Blood and brains seeped out onto the dry floor. Diablo turned around, and untied the children. They thanked him.

The trio drove through the ruins that was Central U.S.A. Cities had been looted and rummaged, people’s dead corpses lay on the floor, blood flowed freely in every ditch. The two children seemed to be unaffected by the blood. Diablo turned and asked them why.
“We do not feel pain. We are mutants.” Mutants. Pesti Lence’s minions.
“Why do you not grieve. Don’t you feel affected by this blood?”
“No we are not.”
“What are your names?”
“Diabolus and Gladius.”
The trio carried on towards the west. After days of travelling they reached Jefferson City. It was abandoned. The streets were empty, and the houses and buildings were surprisingly intact. Diablo peered round a grimy, dark alley. Bodies. Bodies piled on top of each other. Mounds and mounds. Diablo turned, disgusted and enraged by the sight of it.  He called for the children to come. They revealed to him that someone was coming. Someone who wanted to kill them. Diablo could hear the pounding of heavy feet approaching. They had to hide.
“Quick, in here!” Diablo ran towards an abandoned block of flats, just east of their position. The trio darted up the stairs, silently and gracefully. They could now hear the cruel voice of the Dr. outside.
“Leave no-one alive!” The voice barked out its evil command.
“Quickly, in here” Diablo said in a hushed whisper.
The children followed him into an empty apartment. They looked around. It was grimy and greasy, a lot like the truck driver. They could hear guns being fired and helicopters whirring. This was their final stand. The trio crept onto the balcony, over looking the Dr.’s small force. 50 men plus 1 jeep and 1 helicopter. Easy for them to take out. Diablo looked around for a weapon. He found an old M14 rifle. Not the best of weapons, but it would have to do for now. Diablo looked around for a cylindrical piece of metal. He struggled, but in the end he found one. A makeshift silencer. Diablo ran towards the balcony, and took aim with the M14. He scoured the small battalion of Pesti Lence’s men. They were lightly armed, all carrying semi-automatic FAL rifles. The Dr. obviously did not expect any resistance.
“We are warning you one last time Mr. Diablo. Come out or be killed!” Dr. Pesti Lence’s harsh voice screamed. The battalion opened fire. A flurry of bullets narrowly missed Diablo. Diablo fired back. He grazed one of the battalion’s soldiers on the shoulder. They knew where he was.
“Open fire!”
The helicopter descended down towards the balcony, unleashed a flurry of super-heated lead bullets. Diablo rolled out of the way but one struck him on his shoulder. The heat was intense. He groaned in agony. The helicopter released another flurry. This time, Gladius stopped the bullets. He too fell to the floor, but got back up again. Gladius ripped the railing off the balcony and hurled it at the helicopter. The helicopter spiralled out of control and crashed into the battalion with an almighty thump. All the men were killed instantly by the blazing inferno of the helicopter. Dr. Pesti Lence fumed. He ran into the apartments. The trio could hear the Dr.’s loud, heavy footsteps running up the stairs. He was getting closer. Suddenly, the door to the apartment flew off its hinges.
“DIABLO” Pesti Lence screamed, fuming with anger. Diablo turned to see Pesti Lence charging at him with intent of murder. Diablo rolled out of the way, but still felt as if an elephant had charged him. Pesti Lence then moaned with pain. Diabolus had thrown him to the ground.
“Run, Diablo!” Gladius screamed with fury.
“NO!” Diablo replied.
Pesti Lence took advantage of the confusion, and got back up. He lifted Gladius into the air, and ripped his body in half. Blood splayed everywhere. Gladius’ stomach flew up and dissolved in the air. His eyes bulged. The Dr. cracked an evil grin.
“Diablo. You will die.” An evil laughter followed. Pesti Lence picked up Gladius’ limp body and hurled it at Diablo. It narrowly missed Diablo.
“Stop.” Diabolus called. Diablo watched Diabolus lift the Dr. Diabolus flung him towards the hole which was the balcony wall. The Dr. flew, like a bird soaring through the air.
“Diablo. We need to leave.” Diabolus spoke.
“Grab a few rifles from the dead battalion. Grab ammunition as well.”
The duo left the apartments, and climbed into the jeep.
“What will we do now Diablo?” Diabolus called, speaking softly.
“We’re travelling” Diablo replied, breathing heavily.
“Where to?”
“To Las Vegas.”

2040
New York
“Reports of a nuclear war have surfaced. This report comes as no surprise as talks between the U.S envoy and North Korea have broken down. Many in North Korea have objected the war, but the government says otherwise. Crackdowns have occurred there, and the envoy has been unsuccessful in peace attempts. President Chorsky is urging everyone to evacuate the country.” The images and sound disappeared, with a high pitched sound following it.
“You see?” “Chorsky is under our control.” The harsh voice rasped.
“No Dr. , for you see, Chorsky cares for his people, that is why he is evacuating.” This voice was softer, like a mother’s voice to her newborn child.
“No Ghorkov, there is no nuclear threat.”
Dr. Pesti Lence got up and signalled to his men.
“See Mr.Ghorkov out,” Ghorkov got up and signalled to his men to follow him. Moments later, 10 Mini-Uzi’s were trained on Ghorkov’s head.
“Ghorkov, you disappoint me. I thought you knew better than to challenge my rule.”
“What madness is this?!”
“This is my rule.” With that line, a flurry of bullets ensued, and Ghorkov plus his 10 body guards were lying on the floor, with their brains in a bloody mush.

The Dr.’s black Rolls Royce Phantom drove on through the darkness of New York. Many had returned indoors, fearful of the Mercenary Squads sent out to punish those that break the curfew. The reason for this curfew was that the Dr. carried out inhumane experiments on curfew breakers. These experiments were known as The Synthesis, where two humans were merged together, creating a more supreme life form. The car drove on down the Avenue of The Americas, passing homes and businesses. The car stopped outside an ominous looking building and three men entered.
“Sir, our progress has been very good.” A scientist said
“Good. When will the first batch be ready?” Pesti Lence replied.
“Tomorrow.”
“See to it that they are implanted with false memories. We do not want any rebellions.”
“Yes sir.”

2012
The world had witnessed a major breakthrough in the field of genetic science. People were now witnessing the birth of Synthesis. Synthesis was a project, a project that was the initial idea of a young doctor, named Doctor Peter Lancefield. The project was aimed at young and old, frail human beings. Synthesis was designed to combine two humans together, forming a stronger, more agile life-form. The young doctor had received much praise in the first 6 months after the release, but then, he was exiled and sent to work in the legendary Siberian camps. The doctor was exiled as the test subjects started to show strange mutations, such as, 3 arms or legs, an eerie radioactive glow, a strange regenerative power and heightened senses.

{2012
 Peter panted heavily. He had just returned from an errand for Ghorkov.  The errand was to kill anyone who spoke against Ghorkov at the town’s human rights convention which happened every year.

Planned section into peter’s past}


The Dr. exited the building, and outside stood a young male. The person was wearing a trench coat, cut and ripped in various places.
“Who are you?” The Dr. asked, with anger.
“You know me.”
“Yes, yes I do. You’re Hunter.”
“Yes”
“You have been sent to kill me. Then let the battle commence.”
The Dr. darted into Hunter, sending him flying across the street. Hunter got up, and spat the blood dripping from his lower lip. He ran across the tarmac, hurling balls of glowing light towards the Dr.
“You’re an escaped Mutate, aren’t you?!”
“Why of course! You made this possible!”
The two clawed at each other, slashing and swearing. Hunter got up, and spat at the Dr., the Dr. replied, by hurtling a can of oil at Hunter. It struck Hunter square on the head, sending him to the floor in a crumpled heap. The Dr. leant over Hunter, with a knife in his hand. Hunter was finished. Then, out of nowhere, came a hurtling rock from the shadows. The Dr. was distracted just long enough for Hunter to get back up. He ran into the shadows. The Dr. screamed in anger, and hurtled a car into the pitch black. He then proceeded to pull the frames of windows and throw them into the shadows. His attempts were futile. Fighters darted in and out, attacking him from all sides. The Dr. then ran, ran screaming, out into the darkness of the night…

2024 Las Vegas
After two long years, Diablo and Diabolus had made it. They were viewing the Valley from a vantage point, 10 miles away.
“Las Vegas. We have made it,” Diablo spoke, with a tone of hunger.
“Yes, yes we have Diablo” Diabolus replied, uncomfortably. He was worried. In the early days, Diabolus was a soulless being, he did not feel. But now, Diablo was the soulless one and Diabolus felt emotion. He felt angry when Diablo abandoned the inhabitants of a small town, desperate for help. He felt disgusted when Diablo slaughtered the remnants of Austin, in Texas. But he felt, most of all, defeated. He was supposed to be there to keep Diablo human. But Diablo had turned. Turned into a cruel, cold and calculated beast. A beast which would not turn back. A beast lost in the dark abyss of evil…